


i can't dare to dream about you anymore

by blushandbooks



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Angst and Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dreams, F/M, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Pining, and somehow i have officially tied "gold rush" to juke, i have so many other things to finish but blame taylor swift for this one., there are too many songs related to jatp on evermore, unbeta'd i die a clown like the sunset curve boys did
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28126308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blushandbooks/pseuds/blushandbooks
Summary: five times that julie and luke let dreams dictate reality, and one time that they don't.
Relationships: Julie Molina/Luke Patterson
Comments: 21
Kudos: 180





	i can't dare to dream about you anymore

**Author's Note:**

> i.... cannot believe I have 2 requests, a secret santa fic, and new chapters of both of my multi chaps to finish and yet here i am. this is just yearning 
> 
> just got rejected from a college so out of spite i stayed up to write this on a school night bc i'm ~edgy~

**_i. eyes like sinking ships on waters so inviting, i almost jump in_ **

Julie hates Luke Patterson’s eyes. 

They have too much power. One look, and she’ll do whatever he asks, whatever he wants. There have been too many occasions in which she’s been drawn in by the emerald glass and dilated pupils and allowed everything around her to shatter. 

She doesn’t even think he knows their pull -- because they’re, you know, eyes. She can’t exactly control them. He was just blessed by Poseidon to have eyes that mirror the reflection of a deep, dark sea waiting to welcome her. 

(She doesn’t want to jump in. She fears that she’ll drown.)

Luke’s ocean is so vast that when they write together, it laps over her in waves of shock and awe and love. For him. 

One time, when they were writing, Julie tried to play something on the piano and as soon as she opened her mouth to sing, she felt his eyes on her. Two spotlights whose only jobs were to make her shine. 

She pressed the wrong key, tripped over the lyrics, and barely stuttered through the rest of the session. 

Her dream about him tonight is new -- their location, not his presence. He’s in all of her dreams now. 

She finds herself laying on the roof of a house with him on a clear night, staring up at the starry sky like they’re in a quiet forest and not LA. Luke’s eyes, she thinks, sparkle so bright while focused on her that they outshine any of the silver specks dangling in the midnight above them. 

“I bet they’re jealous of you up there,” Luke whispers, only meant for her to hear. She rolls her head to the side to meet his eyes and look at him. 

“Who?”

Her voice is soft, and quiet, and mostly distracted from how close he is. She can’t stop switching her gaze from his eyes to his lips; wondering if he’ll kiss her tonight like he does on the good nights. 

“All the other stars.” He pauses. “They could never compare to you.”

_ Or your eyes, _ she thinks to herself. His loving look falls upon her like glitter. 

She watches as his mouth stretches into a warm grin, and realizes that she recited her thoughts out loud. That’s the thing about dreams -- every living, burning idea feeds right into the plot. Nothing can be hidden. 

And because of this, it isn’t Luke that kisses her this time, but the other way around. She lifts her right leg to hook herself up and on top of his body, where his arms immediately go up to her hips, and she cups his face to bring his lips to hers. 

She doesn’t need a view of the midnight sky when his eyes are looking up at her. 

“You are my brightest burning star, Julie Molina,” he murmurs into her mouth in another soft kiss. 

Julie doesn’t let him leave her arms until the sun comes up, because she knows that it will be quick to take him from her.

And when it does, she’s only reminded with a blinding ray of light that reality will always be there to prevent her from having any euphoria akin to the one she felt that night.

**_ii. i don’t like anticipating my face in a red flush; i don’t like that anyone would die to feel your touch_ **

Whenever Luke sees Nick, or someone at a concert, or the lead of another band talk to Julie and smile at her like she just handed them the sun -- he understands the feeling.

He just hates it, is all. 

He hates the way that he knows like the back of his cold hands just how easily Julie Molina can make him blush, or stutter; he hates he’s dead and would die all over again to give her one more hug; and he hates almost more than anything that he can see that feeling reflected on the faces of other guys and girls falling under the universal spell of Julie. 

This dream tonight is not foreign to Luke -- he’s grown used to hellish imagery in his sleep. 

There’s a wide, massive field of fire spread out in front of him, licking at the ground at his feet like a needy puppy. The hem of his pants is singed, and his thin tank top has been sweat through due to the raging inferno--

But when he looks up, Julie is on the other side of the flames, smiling at him. Beckoning for him to come over. 

“Luke!” She screams, and he loves the way his name sounds but he is weary of the flames. 

“Julie, it- It’s fire! I’ll burn!”

Her smile almost grows. The fire intensifies, shooting out at him across the ground. 

“Luke,” she calls out once again, “please! I need you.”

Her words burrow deep in his head, repeating over and over. The shear moment she utilized the word need, he took a reflexive step towards her; but then noticed the fire creeping closer. He remains hesitant, but more tempted by the minute. 

“It won’t hurt, Luke, I promise,” Julie continues. Her voice grows increasingly desperate and emotional, like there’s a danger lurking. Luke wonders what could be worse than the growing fire in between them. “Please. Please! I promise, Luke, I just need you-”

\--He dives in. He steps into the fire, begins walking across the burning ground like a god, and runs to her. 

The fire, surprisingly, doesn’t burn him one bit. There isn’t a single singed hair on his body, and his clothes are perfectly intact. He couldn’t even feel the flames as he sprinted through -- like they didn’t exist.

But when he reaches Julie, and throws his arms around her because he would die (... I’m not even going to say it) if anything ever happened to her, he feels piercing burns sizzle at his skin. 

He is consumed in fire not a second later. 

And he wakes up, surprisingly cold on the couch in the garage. He doesn’t get any more sleep that night. 

The rest of the night is spent wondering if he'll go to Hell for loving Julie if he ever crosses over.

**_iii. i don’t like that falling feels like flying ‘till the bone crush_ **

Luke makes Julie’s heart in her chest purely soar. 

It doesn’t take that much; he just looks at her, or smiles, or calls her “mariposa.” But that’s all that she needs to feel her feet lift off of the ground and allow her to bask in the sunlight of his adoration, even if it's just for a few moments.

She could write a million poems and ballads about the singular feeling that Luke’s love picks her up from the floor and wraps her in a warm hug. Her heart strains for the feeling, like it is a drug that she just needs another hit of to know that she won’t lose him.    
  
The need for him becomes stronger every day. Julie wishes her mom was around so that she could ask if the craving was healthy. 

Her dream is beautiful when she finally reaches it: She’s in the sky, surrounded by clouds and blue and Luke is right there with her. When he sees her, he gives her his trademark grin that flutters every nerve in her body -- and she feels herself lift.

Temporarily, she rose into the air. A physical embodiment of how she feels around Luke. 

“Where are we?” She finds herself asking, even though she doesn’t really care. She likes it here. 

“I don’t know, Boss,” he chuckles, taking a few steps towards her. “But we’re together, right? I don’t really care where we are.”

She feels herself fall into a haze just by looking at him. Her hands stretch out in front of her, an invitation; which he gladly accepts. Their fingers weave together effortlessly. 

“Me neither,” she whispers.

Just like she’s been dying for him to do, he unravels one of his hands from hers to lift to her cheek instead. With a soft, affectionate smile, he mumbles “c’mere” and brings her face to his in the softest of kisses. 

She wonders if she kissed Luke in reality whether or not it would feel exactly like this. 

But as their lips brush, tempting Julie to take a bite of the forbidden fruit in front of her, the platform under them begins to rattle. And tilt. And shake.

Violently. 

“Shit,” she hears Luke hiss as she clutches his arms, “I thought we had more time.”

“More time? What do you--” The ground aggressively jerks. “What do you mean?”

“I have to go now, Julie.” 

He didn’t call her a nickname. He said he had to leave -- why? Why would he need to leave this dreamland? Why can’t they stay there together?

Confusion raises tears in her eyes as she watches him try and peel her hands from his arms. She only digs her fingers in tighter.

“Luke, where are you going?” Her voice waivers. She doesn’t like this. His hands tug on hers, harder. 

“I have to go,” he insists. “It’s time. I’m crossing over.”

He never told her about this. 

“What?” She gasps, unable to hide the drop of venom in it. “No, no, you aren’t. You aren’t crossing over.”   
  
“Yes,” he grunts, now forcefully wrapping her hands in his. “I am!”   
  
With a solid grip on her, he tears her hands from his arms and the force behind it sends her flying. 

Literally -- she stumbles off of the platform. And falls, and falls, and falls. 

She feels the jarring crush of her impact on solid ground, shattering her bones, right before she wakes up. 

If she feels her body ache the rest of the day, and shys away from Luke’s touch, nobody questions it. 

**_iv. everybody wonders what it would be like to love you_ **

Luke hears Flynn badgering Julie often about how they should respond to fans questioning the relationship between her and the guitarist. Apparently, there is a host of comments on their videos inquiring on the nature of their high-chemistry stage interactions that Flynn is getting tired of ignoring. 

“Just don’t respond,” Julie always tries to say. 

“I should, though! It’s better to settle it sooner rather than later. Fans can take these kinds of things too far when left alone with it for too long.”

Luke hopes that Julie doesn’t want to outright say that there is no relationship because she reciprocates his feelings. She feels like there is a relationship. She can’t just act like there isn’t -- not when they are like that on stage. 

But she knows the risk of confirming anything the same as he does.

“Just say there isn’t anything to confirm.” Julie’s tone always grows more curt and impatient. Flynn always groans, and puts a pin in the conversation to come back to later. 

This time, when he eavesdrops, there’s a new addition: Flynn tells Julie how many fans would kill to think they have a chance. 

“I’m sorry,  _ what?”  _

Julie’s reaction is similar to Luke’s internal one. 

“Jules, don’t play humble. You’re gorgeous, and you’re talented, and all of the fans agree on that. If you’re single, then there’s something for people to aspire for.”   
  
“... And what are they aspiring for?”   
  
“To be worthy of you.”

“Oh my God, shut up!”

Luke tunes out the rest of their conversation from there, because Flynn’s points send him spiraling. He should have thought about it more -- they’re in a band for God’s sake, and Julie is  _ Julie _ , and how could anyone not want a poster of her on their wall?

His dream that night is a result of his triggered possessiveness. 

Camera lights flash and flash against his eyes so quickly that he adapts to the sensation. There are crowds of people -- adults, paperazzi. A red carpet crushes under his shiny black shoes.

Under his arm, directly to his right, is a familiar mass of curly brown hair: Julie. 

Reporters shout their names while cameras are turned and twisted for a good angle, and Julie, at one point, pulls him over to a tall woman who is clutching a microphone excitedly.

“Julie Molina and Luke Patterson!” She exclaims, clearly for the camera. “Gosh, well aren’t you the talk of the night! Julie and the Phantoms is nominated for nine Grammys this year for their third album, and you guys have been number one on the Billboard charts since… Wow, I think I lost count, it's been so long!”

Him and Julie let out a joyous laugh. Luke likes this dream. 

“I know, it’s insane, but we are all so thankful for the loyal fans who have been there since we were just a garage band,” Julie says into the mic. He knows how much she means it, even if it isn’t real. 

“I know, but we are all so proud of how far you’ve come. Especially you and Luke here, who have been going strong for…”   
  
“Two years next month,” Luke finds himself saying to finish the reporter’s thought. 

“Amazing. You two are Hollywood’s favorite couple. I bet Julie has to fight hordes of screaming girls on the daily, right?”   
  
This elicits less of a genuine laugh and more of an awkward chuckle -- Luke jumps in to set the record straight. 

“It’s actually me who has to do all of the fighting, but can you blame the fans? I’m the luckiest guy in the world. Julie’s perfect.”

Everyone within earshot “aww”s and smiles at them like they are just the cutest thing in the world. Julie’s arm tightens around him, and his grin widens, and he prays that she knows that every word he said is true. 

When Luke wakes up, he lets himself linger in the joy of getting to look into a camera and proclaim how much he loves Julie. Later that day, when Carlos is trying to take videos of Reggie and the bassist appears invisible on camera, the joy dies.

**_v. and then it fades into the grey of my day-old tea ‘cause it could never be_ **

When Julie watches Luke during their songwriting sessions, it is so easy to mistake him for a living being. The way he breathes heavily with excitement over a catchy chorus, or the energy radiating from him as he strums his six-string, or the sparks his fingers leave behind when they brush her hand. 

One day, while she listens to some lo-fi music and attempts to study, she allows herself to doze off into the daydream of if Luke was actually, actually alive.

They meet in high school, in music class, and he’s a cocky guitarist who immediately rubs her the wrong way when he keeps propping his feet up on the back of her chair. 

He starts making attempts to talk to her in class after her first solo performance, and her voice cast the most wonderful spell on him. 

One day, when they are doing an assignment, Luke hands her a folded piece of paper with a song written on it. He wants her honest opinion of it, and for her to make any edits she wants -- it’s then and there that they become songwriting partners. 

  
And she starts to fall in love with him. 

They steal away at lunch to jam in the vacant music room, and lean into each other on the couch in her garage, and he tries to teach her guitar. Neither of them are able to focus when his arms are around her. 

When prom rolls around, neither of them officially ask the other -- they just end up “carpooling.” But as Luke holds Julie’s hand with his right and steers with his left on the way to the venue, she pretends that they’ll share a dance that night.

They do.

Under the sparkling lights flashing around them while some overplayed Ed Sheeran song blares over the speakers, he holds her waist and twirls her around and pulls her close. She thinks he’s about to kiss her when he dips her instead.

They spend the evening attached at the hip with little to no action, much to daydream-Julie’s annoyance. She keeps pushing herself closer to him, purposefully letting her lips brush his ear when she tries to talk to him over the music, and grabbing his hand to pull him all around the venue. 

When he doesn’t make a move all night, she settles for the hard truth that he actually isn’t into her -- until he drops her off at her house. 

And plants one on her in the driveway. It’s abrupt, the way he pulls on her hand and guides her to him with little to no effort, and lets his lips slip between hers like they were meant to. His lips are cold as the chilly breeze curls around them. 

Julie’s tea, which she was drinking while letting her mind wander, is also cool against her mouth. She’s been letting it sit for too long. 

She’s been letting herself hope for too long. 

  
  


**_\+ i. i see me padding across your wooden floors with my eagles t-shirt hanging from your door_ **

Luke’s skin is soft against her cheek. She shouldn’t be surprised, but she is, because she never thought she would allow herself to do this -- but then again, neither did he. 

They both took the dive. Into the water, through the fire, off of the platform -- however you want to put it. 

They’re together. 

Watching his Eagles shirt with the sleeves torn off dangle back and forth under the air of the AC is mesmerizing and amusing to her; she zones out from a combination of watching the shirt and the feeling of Luke’s fingers trailing the curve of her back. 

“What’re you looking at?” Luke whispers, lovingly, to Julie. He feels her smile against his ribs.

“Your shirt,” his skin receives, “it’s there. On my door. In my room.”

“... Yeah.”

“I like it there.”

“Me too.”

He watches with amusement as Julie’s eyes continue to focus on the door, before she squints and lifts herself off of him without warning.

If you ask about the whine he let out at losing her touch, he’ll deny it. 

“Mariposa,” he groans with annoyance, “where’re you going?”   
  
Her response is a simple motion: Flicking the lock on her door. She gives Luke a shy smile. 

“We forgot to lock it,” she mumbles. Embarrassed, she throws herself back into the bed, crawling on top of Luke and pressing kisses down his neck. “Be thankful that my dad didn’t walk in.”

“What would he have seen?” Luke asks, amused, but simultaneously distracted by… Julie. Everywhere. With a deep breath, his eyelids flutter at the smell of her shampoo, and his hands grip her waist more firmly. She pulls back from him, breathing heavy. 

“Me making out with air.”

“Oh,” Luke smirks. With sparkling eyes, he uses his hands to flip her underneath him so that he can return the favor; letting his lips glide over her neck. But, not before giving her a proper kiss first. “Yeah, wouldn’t want him to see that,” he remarks against her jaw. 

Julie’s laugh vibrates against his lips when it rolls from her throat. 

They remain in blissful quiet for the few moments that Luke is just trying to shower her in his love in every way he can, but when he feels Julie knit her fingers through his hair and lift his head, he follows without hesitation.    
  
“Hey,” she whispers. He notices the question in her eyes. 

“Hey. What’s up? Are you okay? Am I-”

“No, I’m good, you’re perfect, I just…” He watches the gears turn in her head. “I love you and I don’t know what to do.”

The line is too much for him not to swoop down and kiss her. 

“If it makes you feel any better,” he begins, “I love you too. And I don’t know what to do either. All I can think of is to love you. And you love me. And we can figure anything else out from there.”

It isn’t a solution, but it’s a promise. Anything that happens, they face together -- be it fire or flood. 

“I think I can do that,” Julie mumbles, slightly in awe. She’s not used to not having a plan. But she thinks she can be okay with it this time. 

To seal the promise, she’s the one to lean up and pull Luke down to her this time. She feels like flying again. 

And this time, she can actually prepare herself for the fall. 

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked it!!! ik the ending isn't the greatest but i think it's julie acknowledging her decision and being like you know what we got this and i am ready for anything that tries to rip luke away from me
> 
> love you guys and stay hydrated


End file.
